


A Dangerous Smile

by misskatieleigh



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Halloween Prompts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 13:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12411027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskatieleigh/pseuds/misskatieleigh
Summary: Bodhi only came in to the bar to get out of the rain. The mysterious stranger that sat down and bought him a drink makes him glad that he stayed. But there's a surprise hiding behind that smile, one that might make him change his mind.





	A Dangerous Smile

**Author's Note:**

> written for the Sniperpilot Halloween prompt for Day 1: Fangs
> 
> Also check out this [fantastic aesthetic](https://writinredhead.tumblr.com/post/166613678336/13-days-of-sniperpilot-day-1-fangs-for) by [WritinRedhead](http://writinredhead.tumblr.com)! It totally captures the mood of the story, thank you dear!

The bar isn’t the sort of place that Bodhi likes. It’s a bit dingy around the corners, like someone’s gone around with a cloth to wipe down, but never bothered with the soap. The beer he’s nursing is bitter, coating his tongue and making him wince with every sip. Appearances must be kept up though, and sitting at a bar without a drink only raises questions. 

Outside, the rain is pouring down out of the heavens like some misinformed god on a mission to drown them all. It blows in with a gust of wind every time someone enters or leaves, the wan fluorescence of a streetlamp casting an angelic halo around them. Bodhi can still feel a drop of it attempting to work it’s way under his collar, slid down from the hair piled into a knot at the back of his head. It’s sentiment that keeps it long, a remembrance of soft hands parting the knots and winding the strands together when he was younger. He ought to cut it off, cast off the memories it drags up too. They’re as useful as the beer in his glass and twice as bitter. 

The door slams open again, a crack of thunder adding to the percussive force and drawing Bodhi’s eyes up from the bar top littered with the detritus of years. The man that enters is backlit, as everyone else has been, but something about the set of his shoulders keeps Bodhi watching. Some vague recollection tries to claw to the surface, but the beer has begun to do it’s duty, tugging his thoughts from straight lines to wandering circles. He drags a hand across his neck, wiping at the water still trickling down, and watches as the man crosses the room to perch on the cracked barstool beside him. 

He tips two fingers at the bartender, some clandestine signal that Bodhi can’t sort but earns the man a glass half full of amber liquid, a solitary half moon of ice swirling around the surface. The man glances at him, thin lips a wry smirk as he gestures a salute with his glass, and then Bodhi is left to watch the long line of his throat as he tips his head back and swallows. Bodhi has the desperate urge to rest his fingers just there, feel the repeated clench of muscle as the man drains the liquid. It’s over too quickly, the moment passing, and the man sets the glass down heavily. The ice swirls again, this time around the bottom of the glass.

Bodhi takes a sip of his beer, grimaces again. It tastes worse now, warmed by the curve of his hand, the bar’s heating system spitting out noxious over-warm air from a vent somewhere over their heads. The man’s grin returns, focused on Bodhi’s soured expression now. 

“Not a beer drinker, then?”

Bodhi considers lying, but the effort feels too much for a night like this, a strand of wet hair tucked behind his ear and the haze of misspent alcohol in his bones. 

“Not as much. It was cheap though, and I’m out of the rain.”

The man’s eyes narrow, just slightly, but he nods in agreement and stretches a hand out toward Bodhi. 

“Cassian.”

Bodhi glances down, then twists on the stool until he’s facing Cassian. There’s a tangle of legs then, his knee slipping between Cassian’s for lack of space, and Bodhi presses their hands together. It gets lost somewhere between a handshake and the idea of more, skin pressed to slightly damp skin. Bodhi can feel Cassian’s fingers twitching against his wrist, nervous or anticipatory he can’t tell. He smiles. 

“Bodhi.”

He pulls his hand away, but leaves his legs where they are, his knee tucked up against the inside of Cassian’s leg, heat radiating out from where they connect. Cassian pretends not to notice the contact, or perhaps chalks it up to close quarters. He tips his head to the bartender again and another glass appears just like the first. A second glass is set in front of Bodhi and he raises an eyebrow out of curiosity. 

“I didn’t order this.”

Cassian presses his leg more resolutely against Bodhi’s, erasing any confusion about how aware he is of their closeness.

“On me. Something to wash the taste of that swill off your tongue.”

Bodhi abandons his pint glass, pushing it toward the back of the counter, and picks up the newly arrived drink. Bringing it up to his mouth slowly, Bodhi runs his tongue along the sharp edge of his teeth. He lets his gaze linger on Cassian, eyes going heavy lidded, then tips the glass to his lips, drinking it in one long swallow. He doesn’t miss the way Cassian’s gaze follows the line of his own throat, nor the brush of Cassian’s hand against his knee, pushing further into Bodhi’s space. 

“I think I’ll slip outside for a smoke. Care to join me?”

Bodhi thinks about mentioning the rain, but a second listen finds that it appears to have tapered off in the midst of their conversation. He nods in assent, offering a slow smile as Cassian pays for their drinks as well as Bodhi’s discarded beer. Then, Cassian’s hand is around his own, leading him off the battered stool and through a side door into the alleyway. The rain has indeed wound down to a mist, but he can see flashes of lightning in the distance. The storm still rages, just further along the road. 

Bodhi doesn’t mention that Cassian still holds his hand captive, but he does use it for leverage, tugging Cassian back toward him as he reclines against the roughness of the brick wall. He tips his chin up, their few inches in height difference giving him the illusion of softness. He’s always been on the slender side, but he wears it with ease. Cassian crowds him against the brick, one hand raised up beside Bodhi’s head and the other still curled against Bodhi’s palm. 

“I hope you haven’t really brought me out here to smoke.”

It’s an attempt at coyness, another affectation that suits him, the sweep of dark lashes and the fullness of his mouth slipping between the soft bite of his teeth. Cassian’s breath stutters, eyes darting down and turning almost black. They turn certainly black and Bodhi’s brain slips out of it’s alcohol haze on sudden instinct. One heartbeat (or lack thereof) and their positions are switched, Cassian’s back pressed to the wall and Bodhi’s hand pressed just there against his throat. 

“Show me your teeth, Cassian.”

The yellowing glow of the alley lights flicker, but they catch enough sharp edges to secure certainty. Bodhi’s hand tightens. 

“Did someone send you? Krennic?”

Cassian shakes his head, the hint of a smile fluttering around the edges of his mouth. Belatedly, Bodhi realizes that he’s hard, pressed up against Bodhi’s hip where Bodhi has him pinned. His voice is a rumble in the empty alley and Bodhi thinks of thunder in the distance. 

“No one sent me here but the rainstorm. But since we’re sharing, let’s have a grin from you as well.”

Bodhi steps back into the light and bares his teeth with a growl. He wishes he didn’t feel cold without the heat of Cassian’s body pressed against him, but he’s gotten used to disappointment in his long life. Cassian follows him forward though, predatory gleam taking over the darkness of his eyes. It makes him shiver, and not because of the wetness in his hair. 

“Should I be afraid, of this Krennic?”

Bodhi hits the wall on the other side of the alley, unaware that Cassian has been slowly walking forward and him retreating. He feels caged, eyes darting around for exit routes, but then Cassian’s mouth is brushing against his own, soft and reverent. It doesn’t match their sharp edges, too much like the wistful hope that he once held inside a beating heart. His heart has no more beats, but he feels warm all over, hands cupping the nape of his neck and a slick tongue brushing against the razor of canines inside his mouth. 

Cassian pulls his mouth away, caging Bodhi against the wall with arms and legs. 

“Will I have to kill him, when he comes for you?”  
Bodhi looks up into dark, dark eyes and falls. 

“Would you? For me?”

Cassian smiles, sharp teeth in the moonlight. 

“Yes.”

Bodhi hasn’t heard a promise that sincere in a hundred years. He curls his hands around Cassian’s neck and arches up toward that lethal smile. A kiss to seal the promise. 

“Then take me home.”

Perhaps there are still small joys left in this world.


End file.
